A Different Kind of Order
by TigerLily888
Summary: Emily disobeys an order while on a case and needs to prove to Hotch that he can still trust her.


**This oneshot is for domilue, she was review number 300 for "You've Got Email". Her prompts were Emily as a blonde and she wanted something smutty. Well, this is certainly smutty, so mature audiences only, please. **

**Domilue, I really hope you like this.**

"Em? Are you all right in there?" Garcia called through the small gap in the door to the womens' change room. It had been at least 10 minutes since Garcia had handed over the dress she had picked out and she was getting worried at the silence that had reigned since then. She had expected some comment from Emily by now, her friend certainly didn't hold back from making her opinions known.

"Come in," came the faint reply.

Garcia walked in tentatively. "I was getting a bit worried when I didn't hear anything ..." her voice trailed off when she caught sight of the normally pantsuited brunette profiler. "_Holy Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, _you look uber amazing!" she whispered in awe.

"I cannot believe you got this dress for me. If you even call this a dress." Emily grimaced and tugged at the hem of her electric blue garment. "What is it made from, latex?"

"Something like that." Garcia smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, Hotch told me to get something that would be appropriate and going by what the previous victims were wearing, this was the most umm … suggestive one I could find."

"Suggestive is one way to put it. I'd have used the word slutty, myself. Seeing how tight it is, it's a good thing it's made from rubber, otherwise my nipples would be on display. And somehow I don't think that's what Hotch had in mind when he told you to buy me something appropriate," said Emily drily.

"You look awesome," Garcia said, "and I mean _totally_ awesome. If the UnSub doesn't hit on you tonight, then there's something seriously wrong with him. I mean other than his psychopathic urge to rape and mutilate women before beheading them. Freaky bastard." She shuddered with distaste. The images of the bodies had been centre stage in her dreams the last couple of nights. She was so going to need to play a few hours Dragon Age II tonight to try and get those images out of her head.

"I just hope this wig stays on. I can't believe JJ chose today of all days to come down with a cold. I don't look at all natural as a blonde." Emily smoothed the honey blonde hair over her shoulders, and Garcia frowned, detecting a hint of anxiety in the gesture.

"Em, are you sure you want to do this?"

Her friend gave her a small smile. "I'm sure, just a small case of nerves, that's all. As you said, he's a freaky bastard."

"Everyone's going to be close by, so you'll be fine. Hotch, Rossi and Reid are already at the bar and my chocolate knight in shining armour is waiting to drive you there. Let's set up your mouthpiece." After making sure that it was secure, she gave Emily an anxious look. "You know you're not going to be wearing an earpiece tonight, so promise me you'll be careful."

"I always am. Don't worry, I'll be fine." She gave Garcia a quick hug. "Let's go get the freak before I faint from the lack of oxygen."

* * *

><p>Morgan blew a low wolf whistle when he saw Emily. "Whoa, princess, you sure you can breathe in that thing?" He grinned, certain that he was seeing the actual delineation of the bones in her ribcage. "What is it, some sort of rubber dress?"<p>

Emily raised her eyebrows. "So what if it is? Do you think the UnSub's going to have a problem with it?"

"_Au contraire, mon cheri_," smiled Morgan, taking Emily's hand and placing it on his arm as he led her out of the BAU. "I'm sure he'll be tripping over himself trying to get to you. It's more that the rubber dress kinda brings to mind suggestions of BDSM," he teased.

"Knowing you, why doesn't surprise me?" she retorted, rolling her eyes.

They got into the SUV and Morgan drove out of the basement level towards the car park exit. "I'm on strict instructions from Hotch to tell you that you need to be alert and protect yourself at all costs. No risks, even if it means letting the UnSub get away. We'll be close to you, but anything can happen, so watch yourself." He casted glance at her. As usual, her face betrayed none of her emotions. It was a skill she would have perfected as a result of both her upbringing and her training as a CIA agent.

"This isn't exactly my first gig, Morgan," she reminded him gently, turning to look at him. "Okay, so it's my first gig as a blonde, but I know what the fundamentals are. I did my recertification training with you a few months ago, remember?"

"I know that you know what you're doing, but when Hotch asks me to do something, I do it." Morgan didn't add that he had seen a shadow of concern in his Unit Chief's eyes when he asked for his message to be passed on to Emily. He had to admit he was surprised. If it had been JJ, he won't have thought twice about it. JJ had the least experience out of all of them, but it was Emily. He knew that Hotch had complete faith in Emily's abilities and his trust in her was absolute. Perhaps it was because Emily was also a friend. Morgan was aware that they had become closer since her return. Their intimate experience of violence was of such a degree that it was not surprising that they would have spoken to each other about it.

Emily interrupted his thoughts. "Tell Hotch that I'll be fine and not to worry. I'm going to do everything in my power to get this guy."

Morgan frowned at the conviction in her voice. But he said nothing. Like Hotch, he trusted Emily. She knew what she was doing and didn't need another lecture. More importantly though, he didn't want her to stop her current ritual of buying him a tall black every morning. God forbid that he would have to start buying one again himself. And that would _not_ be cool.

* * *

><p>Hotch took a sip of his club soda, his eyes roaming over the crowd of people in the bar. Despite it being a Thursday night, the bar was packed due to the fact that it was ladies' night. The women were here for the cheap drinks and the men were here for the women. Luckily though, he hadn't spotted any women so far who resembled the type of women that the UnSub had previously targeted.<p>

"Hey."

He looked up to see Morgan take the seat next to him at the bar. "You took a while to get here. Where's Prentiss?"

"Yeah, Emily was having difficulty getting into her outfit. She's in the blue dress." Morgan nodded towards the entrance.

Hotch glanced casually at the entrance, wondering if he would even recognise her in her disguise. His eyes widened and he froze. This was after he almost swallowed his tongue.

Emily stood at the doorway, looking coolly into the bar, her long, honey blonde hair falling down her back and over her left shoulder, a black velvet choker drawing attention to the flawless skin at her throat, a part of the body that they knew was an obsession of the UnSub's. But it was her body that Hotch couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from. She was wearing an electric blue dress that shimmered under the dim lights in the bar. The skin-tight dress, the low wide neckline and the hem that stopped at the top of her thighs left nothing to the imagination.

"Hotch. Hotch!"

He blinked and looked at Morgan, who was looking at him with concern.

"You okay, man?"

"Fine." Hotch cleared his throat, taken aback at the hoarseness of his voice. He took a quick look around, seeing that all of the men in the bar had noticed Emily and were looking stunned at the sight of her. The majority of them were gaping at her, their mouths open as their eyes raked over her figure. He felt the sudden surge of anger which made him want to stride over to her and cover her with his suit jacket before dragging her out of there. Failing that, he would be satisfied if he could punch out every male present for staring at her. Including his team.

Hotch's eyes narrowed at the gobsmacked expression on Reid's face. Luckily, Reid quickly recovered, although his face paled when he saw Hotch's frown of displeasure. Dave was more circumspect in his demeanour, although Hotch noticed that even his eyebrows were raised in surprise upon seeing Emily. Hotch tensed at the look of appreciation in his friend's eyes before he looked over at Hotch, smiling and giving a very Italian shrug of his shoulders. He was going to need to have a word with Dave before the night was over. As he watched Emily smile at the handful of men who had approached her, Hotch realised that the feelings he was experiencing were not those that a colleague should be feeling, but he ruthlessly forced that thought aside. He would examine them later. Right now they had a job to do.

Two hours later, he was clenching his teeth so hard that he wouldn't have been surprised if he had cracked a couple of his newly laid crowns. Despite him trying to remain unemotional, anger seethed within him as he watched Emily dance with yet another man, her body pressed against the stranger, her arms twined around the man's neck. It took every ounce of his formidable will to keep himself from walking over and beating the hell out of the guy for daring to run his hands down Emily's body. Hotch watched the man's hands which slowly started to move from their position on her waist and drifted down her hips towards her buttocks.

Before he even realised what he had done, he was pushing the protesting man aside and pulling Emily into his arms. She looked up at him, startled. Hotch felt his heart give a double beat at the sudden smile that bloomed joyfully on her face when she realised it was him. Her hands slid up his chest and she linked her fingers behind his neck, her soft palms touching his skin. His right hand was on her lower back and his left hand was further up, his thumb and forefinger resting on the bare skin just above the back of her dress. His brain vaguely registered the dampness on her skin from her exertions on the dance floor while he felt his eyes flare open with surprise when she pressed her body intimately against him. Her eyelids lowered slightly and her smile became sultry.

Hotch swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He knew that Emily needed to look as though she was trying to seduce him in order to catch the interest of the UnSub, whom they knew was particularly interested in targeting women who appeared to be promiscuous. She exerted a slight pressure on his neck and he knew that she wanted him to kiss her. He resisted the pressure, his eyes locking with hers. The fact that he was even considering kissing her should be warning enough. She was his subordinate and there were rules. Even worse than that, she was his friend. He didn't want to jeopardise their friendship, especially for something as trivial as a fake kiss. Even if it would help them catch the UnSub. He didn't know what would happen if his lips were to touch hers. He didn't want to know.

But then she bit her lip and his resolve crumbled. He didn't think he could stand by and watch as she kissed another man. He had never felt as on edge or as tense as he was feeling tonight. He wasn't sure what he would do if he had to watch another man put his hands on her. So he bent down and captured her mouth before his rational mind could put up any further arguments.

_Shit._

He knew the kiss was a mistake as soon as his lips came in contact with hers. Her lips were soft and supple and she tasted faintly like peaches. Now he knew why he sometimes caught a whiff of the scent when he was standing close to her. It was her lip gloss. The kiss was gentle at first, then deepened, his tongue exploring the the velvet recesses of her mouth. Hotch felt something and realised that Emily had moaned, the vibration travelling from her mouth to his. At the thought that her reaction was not for the benefit of the UnSub but was wholly due to the effect that his kiss had on her, he felt his body react, hardening against her.

_Damn it,_ he thought despairingly, even as she pressed closer to him, her tongue duelling wildly with his. He couldn't seem to get enough of her, his hands sliding down to cover her buttocks. So enraptured was he by their oral play that it took a few seconds for Morgan's voice in his earpiece to register.

"Hotch, do you copy? We think we've spotted someone that looks like the UnSub. I repeat, UnSub has been spotted. He's watching you from a table in the north-east corner. What do you want us to do?"

Hotch broke of the kiss, breathing hard as he stared into Emily's dazed eyes. He blinked, trying to clear his head. What the hell was wrong with him? They were on a case and not only was he kissing someone he worked with, he had completely forgotten the purpose for which they were there for. Bending down, he pretended that he was trailing kisses down her neck towards her chest, trying to ignore the way her skin felt against his lips and the scent of her perfume mixed with the scent that was uniquely hers. He spoke into her mouthpiece that was secured in her bodice. "Follow him. I'm going to leave Emily and he'll make his move."

* * *

><p>Emily removed her wig, her movements slow and careful. She looked at herself in the full length mirror hanging in her bedroom. She was pale, too pale, her red lipstick a shocking contrast to the pallor of her skin. She reached up and took the pins that was holding her hair in place, noticing the slight tremor in her hand as she lowered it, shaking her head to loosen her hair.<p>

She had thought she could handle the UnSub, handle the situation. So she had allowed herself to be led away from the bar. But the UnSub had been incredibly strong and fast, so fast that he had managed to overpower her almost before she had realised he was even upon her. She stared blankly into space as the memory of him pushing the tip of his serrated knife against her resurfaced, the point resting exactly on the scar tissue on her stomach. It was Hotch who had saved her. He had called out to the UnSub and when the UnSub saw him, he jumped up and tried to run before Hotch tackled him. It took both him and Morgan to subdue the UnSub, the heroine in his body giving him superhuman strength. Emily blinked at the sound of a knock on the door. She knew who it was even before she reached the door.

Hotch stood in the doorway, his dark eyes drilling into her. After a long moment he walked in, not saying a word. Emily closed the door behind him and slowly turned to meet his hard gaze. His face was hard as stone, his lips compressed into a thin line. Her mouth parted slightly when she saw that his hands were clenched into fists on either side of him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. Suffocating silence filled the space between them. Emily felt her heart race.

"That's all you can say for yourself?" His tone was harsh, biting.

"I thought I could handle him." She hated that her voice was tentative. She took a breath. "I could have handled him if it wasn't for the drugs."

"I know Morgan told you not to take any risks. I told you not to take any risks. But you ignored my order." His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened with anger. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't write you up for insubordination."

Her stomach fluttered in fear. Not of him, never of him. It was because she couldn't bear to disappoint him, not after everything he had done for her. "I had to take him down. Hotch. I had to prove to everyone that they could still have faith in me, that I could still do my job. You trusted me to do my job tonight. I had to show you that your trust wasn't misplaced."

Bewilderment mixed with anger on his face. "Emily, what are you talking about? You have nothing to prove. We trust you. We all know you can do your job. There's nothing to prove."

She bit her lip. "I had to prove it to myself." Her voice was a whisper. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to make you angry."

"Emily, I need to know you can follow orders. That you will do what I say whenever I say. Tell me you can do that." He gaze was intense, holding her captive.

"I can. I can follow your orders. What happened tonight won't happen again."

He looked grimly at her but remained silent. She knew he wasn't convinced that she was speaking the truth. The memory of their earlier kiss flashed through her mind and she knew what she had to do. It was what she had wanted to do for a long time. She took a deep breath and took the few steps that brought her up right next to him, doing it before she lost her courage. "I can follow your orders. Whatever they are, whenever they are. Tell me what you want me to do."

His brow drew into a frown and he looked at her, seemingly unsure of what she was saying.

"Would you like me to kiss you? Or maybe you'd like me to take my dress off?" She held her breath, watching him carefully as light started to dawn in his eyes.

When he said nothing, she continued. "I can give you a foot rub or maybe you'd like me to touch you." At those words she heard him draw a sharp breath. "Just tell me what you want me to do. Give me an order. I promise I'll do it. Whatever you want."

Hotch stared at her, turmoil in his eyes and she knew that he was fighting with himself. The only thing giving her courage was the fact that she knew he wanted her. He couldn't have kissed her like he had done if he didn't feel anything for her. She knew that she shouldn't be doing this. But she didn't want to stop. Not now, not after that kiss. She was willing to risk everything, their friendship, her beloved job, for a chance at happiness. Because this man, this strong, unyieldingly loyal, follow-the-rules-to-the-letter man before her made her heart sing at the mere sight of him.

"Tell me," she repeated. "Maybe I can start. Do you want me to take my dress off? How about you tell me what you want me to do," she said softly.

Hotch swallowed hard and moistened his lips. But he still said nothing.

"Okay, I'm going to pretend you gave me an order. Emily, you say, take your dress off." She reached for the zip on her right side and slowly slid the tab downwards, never taking her eyes from his.

His gaze followed the movement of her hand. She moved slowly, pulling the straps down her arms with some difficulty even with the zip undone. Peeling it down her body, she finally straightened, feeling a wave of relief sweep through her at the flush on his cheeks as he surveyed her body, clad only in a black strapless bra and briefs.

"What do you want me to do next? Take my bra off?" She reached behind and paused, taking another step towards him, so close that their bodies were almost, but not quite, touching. "Tell me," she breathed.

Hotch looked at her, then as if unwillingly compelled, his dark gaze, dropped towards her cleavage. She knew he could tell that she was breathing fast from the rise and fall of her chest, even though he would have already heard her breathing.

"Tell me, give me an order, Hotch." She could hear the entreaty in her voice. _Please say something. Anything._

His eyes jerked up to meet hers. Seconds ticked by. And then he spoke. "Take off your bra." His voice was low, so low she barely heard him. But she did and a great weight suddenly lifted off her.

Her hands fumbled with the clasp of her bra, so nimble normally but now clumsy as she stood before him. The bra fell to the floor and she clenched her fists to stop her hands from shielding herself from his fierce gaze. She emitted a gasp when his hands covered her breasts, the calloused palms sending twin sparks of sensation through her body and into her groin. She felt a rush of moisture between her thighs. He kneaded her gently, moving his hands so that his thumbs stroked the tightly furled tips, making her shiver with need.

He took his hands away and stepped back, his eyes glittering with passion. "Go to the bedroom. Take of your panties and lie on the bed."

Emily's breath hitched in her throat at his command. Helpless to resist him, she walked unsteadily to her room, feeling his eyes on her as he followed her.

She lay on top of the bed, feeling self-conscious, nerves making her stomach ache. He stood at the foot of the bed, eyes hooded. "Spread your legs."

She did, her legs trembling. She had never felt so exposed in her life. She closed her eyes, shutting out the image of him staring down at her.

"Show me how you touch yourself."

Emily hesitated. He wanted to watch her pleasure herself? She swallowed. Could she do it? Her hand slowly moved downwards. She stifled a gasp when her fingers came in contact with her swollen clit. Despite her embarrassment, her body was already fully aroused. A shockwave of pleasure swept through her and she bit her lip.

"Don't hold back, let me hear you." Hotch's voice was dark and compelling. Her middle finger stroked her clit and she moaned softly. It had been so long since she had last done this, she knew it won't take her long to climax. She heard him ground out a curse as she slid her fingers down, scooping up the liquid arousal she was emitting before recommencing her stroking, her finger moving faster now, the lubrication easing the movement. The pleasure doubled and she stopped, panting, not wanting to peak yet, knowing that if she held off, her climax would be more intense. She slid her fingers into her tight channel, shuddering as she stroked the particularly sensitive spot within, arousing a different set of feelings. She threw her head back as the tension built once more, burning through her veins and centering in her groin. She felt another rush of moisture escape as her orgasm drew closer and her fingers twisted wetly within her soft depths.

"Stop." His harsh voice cut through the haze of her pleasure.

She froze, her eyes flying open. She felt her clit pulsing madly against the palm of her hand. "No, Hotch please, I'm so close." She was practically begging.

"Take your hand away." His voice brooked no refusal. With a muffled sob of frustration she removed her hand from between her thighs.

"Sit up."

She did, her eyes widening when she realised that he had removed his clothes. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips at the sight of his massively erect manhood. She had felt him against her earlier, and she could tell that he was large, but he completely exceeded her expectations.

"Let me taste you," he uttered roughly, stepping up to her. She reached up and he took her wet fingers into his mouth, his tongue rasping her fingertips. His penis strained towards her and she encircled him with her other hand. He was hot, his velvet soft skin encasing a core of steely hard strength. Emily felt need pulse through her. She wanted so badly at that moment for him to come into her, she could barely contain the plea that was on the tip of her tongue.

Hotch had other ideas. "Take me into your mouth," he ordered. "Suck me."

She did, tasting his salty musk. She replaced her left hand with her dominant right, stroking the bottom half of his shaft that she was unable to take into her mouth. Hotch breathed heavily, thrusting carefully into her mouth, the small part of her brain that was still rational thrilling at his consideration of her. She sucked harder, her hand moving faster and she felt him jerk in her mouth. He was almost there. Before she could redouble her efforts, he spoke again.

"Enough." His voice was a snarl, barely human. Emily released him and looked up, her breath catching in her throat and the wild lust in his eyes. His control was stretched to the limit and she shivered at the thought of him letting go of that control. "Lie back. On the pillow," he growled.

She moved back, unable to tear her eyes away from his face. A split second later, he was on top of her, his strong arms catching her thighs and drawing them up so that she was completely open to him. Emily screamed, her back arching in pleasure at his first shockingly hard thrust. Her climax slammed through her without warning and sparks shot before her vision. Her body went rigid as waves of pleasure swept over her without pause, taking away her ability to breathe. She was still in a daze of pleasure, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he came inside her, thrusting deep and holding still, her name echoing in her ears, his seed emptying into her.

It was a long time before they recovered their breaths and Emily finally drew enough courage to look up at Hotch. She felt her heart skip a beat at the tenderness in his eyes that she had never dared dreamt she would see. He smoothed away a lock of her hair from her cheek.

"Are you all right?" He looked at her with concern. "I was rough with you."

"I'm fine. I liked it." She felt herself blush when she heard the words she uttered.

He smiled. "I think you proved beyond any shadow of doubt that you can follow orders."

"You were mean. Not letting me finish." She tried to frown at him.

"I know, I'm sorry," he murmured, bending down and giving her an apologetic kiss. "I really wanted our first time to be together." His arms tightened around her and she felt warmth in the vicinity of her heart.

"I'll forgive you on one condition." She placed her hand over his heart, feeling it beat slowly and steadily under the palm.

"What's that?" he asked, amusement reflected in his eyes.

"I get to give the orders next time round."

His mouth twitched. "Let me think about it."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Okay, I've thought about it. It's a deal."

Hotch laughed as Emily reached up and gave him an enthusiastic kiss, a kiss that was full of the promise of things (and orders) to come.

**My apologies for any typos, it is ridiculously late here (like almost morning) but I really wanted to post before I went to bed. Please review and let me know whether you like this (or not)!**


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